


Revelation

by Luci0logy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-15
Updated: 2006-07-15
Packaged: 2018-10-27 14:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luci0logy/pseuds/Luci0logy
Summary: An unexpected encounter reveals a secret that Draco desperately wanted to stay just that - a secret.





	Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Beta: Saladbats, whose encouragement helps me to explore new depths when writing. Merryweather is Harry & Draco's homophobic boss who despises their relationship.  


* * *

It was the sudden silence, not the bright dawn light gradually infiltrating the hall through the wooden Venetian blind, that snapped Harry out of his drifting thoughts. Draco had finally turned the shower off. It seemed to Harry, as he sat with his head resting on his knees on the floor outside the locked bedroom door, that Draco had been in there for hours, when in reality it had only been twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes of trying to wash away the stain and humiliation of past deeds that had so unexpectedly been revealed earlier that night. Twenty minutes of Draco trying to hold himself together, before letting himself be swallowed up in the black pit of self loathing that he so clearly felt.

At least that’s what Harry thought he felt, judging by the expression on his face and his refusal to look at Harry or even talk to him. Not since Kingsley Shacklebolt had allowed them to leave the deserted building that had been their temporary prison, while Draco still had an ounce of dignity left intact.

Harry lifted his head slowly, turning his neck from side to side in an effort to relieve the stiffness, and listened for any sound of movement from the bedroom. Finally he heard the faint creak of the wardrobe door opening, then soft footfalls padding across the floor toward the bed. 

Harry stood and paced back and forth in front of the door debating whether to try and break through the wards Draco had erected, go in and offer what comfort he could, or give the man some space to come to terms with the night’s revelations. 

Space, Harry decided, was what Draco needed now.  He desperately wanted to talk to him, to reassure him that nothing had changed between them before Draco walled himself up in his tower of silence - a phrase he used to refer to the times he retreated into himself, alone and unobtainable.  
   
* * * * * 

They had been walking along a quiet side street laughing at their antics in the cinema, when the attack had come out of nowhere. One moment Harry was walking arm-in-arm with Draco, the next he was pitching forward as thin, snake-like ropes wound around his body, before being grabbed from behind and Apparated into darkness. He hadn’t even had time to shout a warning to Draco or think about drawing his wand.

The echoing sound of the rhythmic drip of water at first seemed so far away, then came closer as Harry’s dulled senses cleared. He kept his eyes shut so as not to alert whoever had led their abduction while he tried to take stock of the situation. Harry knew that he was sat on a chair, still restrained by the magical ropes, and no bones appeared to be broken. He didn’t have a clue where his wand was. 

Cracking open one eye slightly, Harry managed to discern that Draco appeared to be in the same predicament, sitting across from him with his head bowed, and they appeared to be in some sort of deserted factory - a Muggle factory judging by the hulks of rusting machinery he could just make out in the gloom. 

The shock of cold water over his head made him sit upright, eyes wide open and blinking rapidly in the flare of light. He looked across at Draco to find his gaze already fixed on the shadowy outlines of three men standing to the left of him behind the light.

“Mr Potter,” said a disembodied voice. Harry turned his head toward the sound, squinting into the light. “I’m so glad to make your acquaintance at long last. It’s not everyday my partner and I entertain a bona fide celebrity.”

Harry sat up straighter and tried to look past the light. “I’m sorry, but you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t know who to thank for such gracious hospitality.”

“No matter, Mr Potter, no matter.” The voice changed from gently mocking to brusque. “It’s time to dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business.”

“I’m afraid I’m not aware of being in business with anyone,” Harry said, stalling for time. _Think, damn it, think._

“You misunderstand me, Mr Potter. It’s not a case of being in business, more a case of costing me business.”

Suddenly the voice belonged to a face as the speaker walked in front of the light. He looked to be somewhere between fifty and fifty five. Tall, thickset and balding with a double chin and dark eyes. Harry could see Draco frowning as he mentally tried to put a name to the face. He caught Harry’s eye & shook his head slightly.

”Costing you business? Again you have me at a disadvantage, because…”

“Heathrow Airport, January 7th 2006. You led a raid on a warehouse. Specifically my associate’s warehouse. That raid led to a significant loss of business, and a negative impact on our profit margin that we have yet to recoup. Along with a considerable dent in our reputation.”

“You were smuggling Dark Artefacts out of the country,” said Draco.

“Ah, Mr Malfoy, so nice of you to join us,” the man almost purred as he sauntered over to Draco. “This is an unexpected bonus. I’m really looking forward to renewing our acquaintance when this little meeting with Mr Potter has been satisfactorily concluded.” 

Draco peered up at the stranger, looking puzzled. “What? You don’t remember me?” He took several steps back, hand on heart, feigning shock. “I remember you,” he paused and leant forward, “intimately.”

Although Harry knew he should be looking for a way to escape while the man was distracted with Draco, he couldn’t help but watch the curious exchange.

Draco shook his head slowly, frowning slightly. “I’m sorry, but I think you're mistaken. I’ve never seen you before.”

The man walked around the back of Draco’s chair and placed his hands on Draco’s shoulders, massaging them gently. He leant forward until his mouth was level with Draco’s ear and looked straight at Harry.

“Maybe you don’t recognise me without my mask, hmmm? I suppose you wouldn’t because I always wore it at Lord Voldemort’s ‘special entertainments'.” Even in the glare of the light, Harry could see that what little skin colour Draco possessed had completely drained out of his face and he was as white as a sheet, his eyes wide open with shock. Harry knew little of what had happened to Draco when he was imprisoned temporarily in the depths of Malfoy Manor, during the war. He had a sick feeling that he was about to find out a lot more.

“You remember Lord Voldemort’s ‘special entertainments’ don’t you, Mr Malfoy? Or should I call you Draco? After all, we were intimate on several occasions, if you recall.” Keeping his gaze locked with Harry’s, he licked a slow path up the side of Draco’s face from his jaw to his temple. Draco closed his eyes and shuddered.  
   
Still facing Harry, the mysterious man stood and gently stroked Draco’s hair, as a lover would. “Are you familiar with Lord Voldemort’s ‘special entertainments’, Mr Potter?” Harry stared at the man as impassively as he could. Despite the magical bindings, Draco was now shaking, the gentle strokes through his hair causing him more distress, rather than comfort.

“No? Well it’s not something to brag about is it, Draco? Wouldn’t want the _Saviour_ ,” he spat with derision, “to know how much cock you sucked, or how many of us you took at once, now would you?” 

“Draco's past makes no difference to me. You're a fool if you think it does," Harry said through clenched teeth. "Leave him alone. I thought your business was with me."

“Maybe his past makes no difference to you, but it does to him.” He threaded his fingers through Draco’s hair and yanked his head back hard, forcing Draco to open his eyes and gasp for breath. “Doesn’t it, Draco? Tell me, which hurt more; all the ‘guests’ that had you, or your father, standing by watching? Mind you, he never was the same when he got back from Azkaban, was he? Such a disappointment for a pure-blood," he said, with a sigh, shaking his head.

“As fascinating as this trip down memory lane is,” cut in another, coarser voice, “can we get back to business and leave pretty boy alone, for now. I’m bleeding freezing just standing here.”

“Of course.” the first man said, releasing Draco’s hair and stepping away from him. Harry tried to make eye contact, willing Draco to look at him. But Draco was staring at the floor, face now burning with humiliation. 

“Where are my manners? Most remiss of me,” he said as he took out his wand and walked toward Harry pointing it at his heart. Draco’s head shot up and he struggled against his bindings. There was nothing Harry could do, no amazing feat he could pull off at the eleventh hour. The bindings held him tightly and his wand was nowhere in sight. He felt the calm of resignation settle over him. His eyes finally locked on Draco’s and he gave him a tight smile.

“To business then, Mr Potter.” 

 “No!” Draco screamed.

At that moment the gloom erupted in flashes of light and noise. _Accio wand_ and _Petrificus Totalus_ rang out together and the unknown man fell at Harry’s feet, immobile. Behind the glare of the lights Harry could make out other forms moving in the gloom, voices shouting. Someone shouted a Lumos and the whole area was suddenly awash with light, causing Harry and Draco to blink rapidly before they could focus on their surroundings.

Six bodies lay bound on the floor. Aurors Tonks, Shacklebolt, Finnigan, Macmillan and Merryweather stood over them. Harry could also see several Hit Wizards he recognised but didn’t know personally standing at a discreet distance waiting for instructions.

“Fuck me, Harry, that was close,” said Finnigan as he dissolved Harry’s bonds. Tonks had released Draco, who just sat staring at the floor. Shacklebolt searched the bodies and retrieved Harry and Draco's wands.

“Okay you lot,” Merryweather said to the Hit Wizards, “get this scum back to Headquarters for questioning. Put them in separate holding cells.”

Harry looked at Seamus. “What’s he doing here?” he said nodding towards Merryweather.

“Insisted on being in on the big catch,” Seamus murmured in Harry’s ear, “he’ll probably try and take all the credit, given the chance.”

Harry ran a shaky hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “I thought I was a goner there.” He stood and walked over to Draco. “How did you know we were here?” he asked Tonks.

“Intelligence had gathered information about a possible hit on you, so a surveillance team was put together this week,” she said.

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the Aurors. “And no one thought to warn us? You didn’t just arrive then, did you?” 

“No,” said Kingsley, “but we needed proof that these were the masterminds behind the Heathrow job.” He looked uncomfortable. “It was unfortunate that Mr Big got distracted or we’d have been in sooner.”

“Oh God.” 

Harry looked down to see Draco burying his face in his hands. 

“How much did you hear?” he asked quietly.

“Enough,” Tonks answered. “I’m so sorry, Draco.”

Draco looked up, face struggling to remain impassive. “Can we go now? It’s been rather a trying night.”

“Yes, said Merryweather, walking toward them. “I can save us all having to make statements by filing a detailed report myself.” Shacklebolt frowned and opened his mouth to protest. “Don’t worry Shacklebolt, I’ll make sure the report contains,” he looked at Draco, smirking, " _everything_ ".

“You bastard!” Harry shouted, lunging suddenly at Merryweather. Both men stood glaring at each other, wands drawn.

Draco and Tonks grabbed Harry from behind as Kingsley pulled Merryweather to one side. “Don’t, Harry. He’s not worth it,” Draco implored. "Please, let’s go home. It’s still not light and I don’t want to spend all Saturday asleep.”

When Draco drew level with Merryweather the older Auror looked at him with contempt and murmured, “Well Malfoy, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree does it? I always knew you were as rotten as your father.”  Draco managed to pull off a sneer, but didn’t say anything. Harry, however, noticed his wand hand move imperceptibly and made a mental note to ask him what spell or charm he'd surreptitiously cast later. 

* * * *

Harry gave the Ministry owl a treat before it flew off into the early morning, and shut the kitchen window. He went back upstairs and knocked softly on the bedroom door, hoping Draco would respond.

“Draco, I’ve had some good news,” he said through the door, “from Tonks. She’s just sent an owl. Apparently Merryweather has been 'accidentally' obliviated. I don’t know any more details at the moment, but that’s good news isn’t it? Draco?” He knocked softly again. “Draco, let me in please. I want to see you.”  
   
Harry felt the wards being lowered and there was an audible click from the door before it swung open. Harry stepped in the room to see Draco lying on top of their bed, curled on his side in the foetal position, staring into space. Harry moved over to Draco and knelt down beside the bed. Taking hold of his hands, he gave them a squeeze, and then lightly stroked the side of Draco’s face with the backs of his fingers.

“Come on love,” he said in soothing tones. “Come downstairs with me. I’ve put some fresh coffee on. It smells fabulous. We can sit in the sun, if you’d like. Draco?”

Draco’s bloodshot eyes moved to Harry’s face and held his gaze. “I didn’t want you to know,” he rasped. “I never wanted you to know. I’m so ashamed.” He looked away briefly, then back at Harry, his face flushed with embarrassment. “How can you even bear to look at me?”

“Because I love you, Draco, it’s as simple as that. The person you are today includes _all_ your past." Harry cupped Draco's jaw and leaned in to give him a reassuring kiss, but felt Draco stiffen under his touch so he pulled back, "Now," he said with a brightness he didn't feel, "come downstairs with me, you look like you could use a drink.”

The aroma of fresh coffee permeated the sun-filled sitting room. Both men sat either side of the fireplace, drinking periodically, but neither spoke as though they were afraid to spoil the peaceful moment. 

Suddenly Draco sighed deeply, and put his coffee cup down. He stood and made to leave but Harry was quicker and blocked his way. “Stay with me, Draco. Don't wrap your self up in silence, please.”

Draco looked at him with pain-filled eyes, and opened his mouth as if to speak but nothing came out. He swallowed the unspoken thought back down, deep inside, and stood looking at the floor with his arms hung impotently by his sides. Harry tentatively reached out and touched the side of Draco’s face, raising his chin so they had eye contact. He ran his thumb gently across Draco's lips. “Stay,” he whispered, “don’t shut me out this time, please.” 

Draco gazed over Harry's shoulder at the sitting room door, but he made no effort to leave, so Harry gently took his hand and led him back to the chair he had previously been sitting in, as if he were a child that had lost his way. Once Draco was seated, Harry knelt before him and sat back on his heels, taking hold of Draco’s hand again and looked up at him. 

He wanted to explain how much he loved this man sitting in front of him, to help ease his pain, but felt a little nervous as he struggled to find the words to express himself in case he sounded like something out of a cheap pulp fiction romance.

“Draco, I want to say something and if it sounds daft… well, I don’t mean it to. I’m trying to be sincere, but I'm not as articulate as you.” Draco nodded, watching Harry with a guarded expression. Harry placed the tips of Draco’s fingers to his own lips.

“Do you feel these lips?” Draco nodded once. “These lips only touch your lips, kiss you,” Harry began to blush but continued with what he wanted to say, “…worship you.” Draco's eyes suddenly looked overly bright but he didn't look away.

Taking a deep breath of courage, Harry ploughed on. He placed Draco’s hand on his heart. “Do you feel this?” Draco nodded again. “It beats for you, Draco. And when it beats faster, that’s because of you and the effect you have on me.” Draco frowned slightly and opened his mouth to speak. “Shhh,” Harry said, placing a finger on Draco’s lips and shook his head, “not yet.”

Harry rose to his knees, undoing his shirt with one hand, and trailed Draco’s fingers down his chest to just below his navel and back up. Goose bumps broke out across Harry’s skin in the wake of Draco’s finger tips. “See that?” asked Harry.

“Yes,” said Draco, quietly.

“That’s my body responding to you, to your touch.” Arousal was already coursing through Harry’s body, caused by the very presence of this man in front of him, but he was determined not to rush things. He didn’t even know if Draco would allow Harry to touch him at this moment, or even in the future.

Taking another deep breath, hoping beyond hope that he wasn’t about to fuck up, Harry continued to look up into Draco’s solemn eyes. “Somewhere else has responded too. You..." He felt the words die on his lips as his resolve faltered briefly. "Fuck, Draco, you intoxicate me and I am completely addicted to you.” He held himself still as Draco’s eyes travelled down his body, pausing briefly at his groin before looking away, jaw clenched.

“This isn’t lust, Draco. Not on this occasion. I’m trying to show you that I mean it, when I say I love you. I want to love you and God help me, yes, I want to make love to you. You’re the same person that I loved yesterday, last week, last month, last year. Nothing has changed for me,” Harry hesitated and Draco turned his face to look at him again, “has it for you?”

Draco swallowed, and stared at Harry. After what seemed like an eternity to Harry, Draco shook his head.  
   
“Can you let me love you?” Harry cringed internally when he heard the hope, the need in his voice. 

“Yes,” Draco answered with barely a whisper.

Harry’s heart soared higher than a Hippogriff. He stood, and taking Draco’s hand, led him over to the sofa. He smiled shyly, suddenly nervous. “It’s more comfortable on here.” Sitting down, he pulled Draco into his lap. “We’ve got all day so we can take our time. Is that okay with you?”

Draco responded with a tight smile before saying, “I… I want you to remind me how it can be. Not sordid or dirty, but beautiful."

And Harry did remind him, because he loved Draco Malfoy, mind, body and soul.


End file.
